


Casey vs. Everything

by orphan_account



Category: Bones (TV), Chuck (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-15 08:31:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3440465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a drunken night in Vegas turns two lives upside down, how many challenges will they have to face to fix their mistakes? What happens when there is a murder?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waking Up in Vegas

The sunlight stabs my eyeballs as I open my eyes, and I quickly shut them again. What the hell happened last night? I can't remember anything about what happened, but my lower muscles feel sore. As I massage my aching thighs with my eyes still closed, memories start flooding back. Casey. Drunk. This hotel room. Drunken sex. Based on the condition of my muscles, it must have been amazing. I slowly turn my head to an unnatural angle, and there he is. He looks calm for once- almost happy. His hair is a mess, from both sex and sleep.

I begin to think he looks kinda cute, but I quickly shift my focus when I feel something cold on my left hand. I look down, and I instantly know my life as I know it is over.

There's a platinum wedding ring on my finger. I lift up the blanket very carefully to not wake him up, and I silently throw my head back in misery. He's wearing the matching ring.

I really need to figure out what exactly happened, and how it happened- but I have to get out of here first. It's going to be hell if I wake him up, but he still has his muscled arms wrapped around me. Last time I checked marines were supposed to be light sleepers, but oh well.

I carefully wriggle my way out of those amazing arms and put on the salvageable clothes. My panties and bra are both literally torn in half, so those stay on the floor. My heels would be too noisy, so I guess I'm going barefoot. My skirt and shirt are ok though, so I pull them on and tiptoe quietly towards the door. My luck runs even lower when I hear the voice of the person I want to see the least at the moment.

"Where are you going?" I wince and turn around. "Nice try, but I was never asleep." Dammit. I begin considering ways to kill myself. All of my options are too messy, so I decide to face the music and force a smile on my face. 

"Morning. I was just leaving.... for breakfast." Yeah. That lie will definitely work. 

It's not working. I have to find a lawyer immediately. "Right. What are you really doing?"

I sigh. "I'm going to find a lawyer." He raises an eyebrow. "Look at your left hand." He groans.

"I was already aware of the wedding band, Carina. I've been weighing the options since I woke up."

"Options? We're getting this annulled. That is the only option!" Is it, though? I've been unsure about my feelings for him since Prague. It appears I'm going to have to deal with it now. "Casey.... why the fuck did this happen?"

"Difficult mission, and I guess we took the drinking pretty far." I snort.

"FAR would be having sex somewhere random. I'd classify this as a more outrageous event." For some reason, my bare feet have taken me back to the side of the bed without my permission. I notice a shiny piece of paper on the desk and grab it.

This certifies that John Casey and Carina Miller were united in marriage on this day, the seventh of August, in the year 2013.

Two witness signatures are at the bottom of the certificate. One of them is Sarah's, and the other is a random hotel manager. I'm going to murder Walker for letting me do this. I can't be married! It's an unspoken rule in the government life- spies don't fall in love, and they don't get hammered and hitched in Vegas either- and besides. I, a DEA agent, cannot settle down and live the normal life of a housewife. I would go completely insane within a day. I feel like vomiting, but it's not hangover nausea. I've had plenty of that before- this nausea, however, is a little different, and I can't quite put my finger on the exact reason why. When I finish puking, Casey is gone. There is a note on top of the certificate detailing my doom.

Breakfast hall?  
C

I quickly pull out my phone and send a reply.

Fuck off.  
C

When I don't receive a reply, I pick up my sunglasses and leave-

At least, I try to.

Sarah is waiting outside my door with a horrible looking smirk on her face, and I grimace for what's about to come. "Well, well, well. Congratulations, Mrs. Casey."

"How the hell did you even find out?"

"You forced me to be your impromptu maid of honor. Chuck was the best man. After the ceremony, you stole Casey's phone and called me even though I was standing five feet away." She pulls her phone out and replays the voicemail.

It's me, slurring my words so much I myself can barely understand them. "Walker? Walker guess what? I got married! To Johnny!"

At this point Casey interrupts my phone call, slightly less drunk than me. "Stop... stop it. Hey wait, that's not your phone- It's mine. Give it back!" The message ends, and I look at my friend in horror.

"You stood there and allowed this to happen?!"

"You were both way too hammered for us to do anything, and there were too many people in that bar to tranq you both." I'm fucked. I can't go back to California, or DC, because annulment would be impossible if we left state lines. What the hell am I going to do?


	2. Chapter 2

After finally getting out of Sarah's teasing, I walk down to the breakfast hall- but the smells are somehow too overwhelming, and I spend the next ten minutes dry heaving in the bathroom. I decide to just go back to my hotel room, which, I discovered, actually has two beds. I think about my plight as the elevator slowly goes to the twentieth floor. How am I married? I'm on a mission, so why was I obliterated drunk in the first place? I am so dead when my superiors find out- that is, if they haven't already. I finally reach my hotel room and open the door, but something is off. I raise my gun and scan the room. Nobody in the main area...

I enter the bathroom- and I immediately back out and drop my gun on horror...

There is what appears to be a mutilated human body. In the bathtub. There is blood all over the floor, and I realize that I probably just contaminated a crime scene. I am not a screamer, but that's exactly what I do. I run out of the hotel room without my gun, then immediately pull out my phone and dial a number. 

"What?"

 "Get up to the hotel room NOW. I believe your nerd friend would classify this as... um... pear?"

 "Pineapple, and I'm on my way. What the hell is wrong now?"

"Just get up here, ok?" I hang up and sit on the floor, leaning against the wall. Why me? First a drunk Vegas marriage, and now this random mutilated body in a bathtub? I just wanted a successful mission, god damn it. Casey runs out of the elevator and down the hallway towards me with his gun raised. "What happened?"

"There's a body." I point towards the hotel room.

"A what?"

"A dead, mutilated body. In the bathtub."

"Who'd you kill?"

"That's the thing! I didn't kill anyone! I tried to go down to breakfast, didn't want to, came back here, and there was a random dead guy in the bathtub!" He raises an eyebrow, but walks into the room. He comes out 30 seconds later with wide eyes. 

"What the fuck?"

"Don't call a clean up team, since neither of us did it."

"Then who do I call, genius?" I glare at him.

"Whoever investigates murders- the FBI, I guess?"

* * *

Booth and I are eating pancakes when his phone rings. "Booth. Where? What!? I'll see if I can get out there... wow." He hangs up and turns to me. "Two pepole left the hotel room they were staying in, and came back to a mutilated body in the bathtub."

"You sounded surprised, Booth."

"Bones... the body is in Las Vegas."

"As in Nevada Las Vegas?"

"Is there another Vegas I don't know about?"

"Well, what about Christine? We can't bring her..."

"We can have Angela and Bug Boy take care of her while we're gone."

"Booth, she has a rambunctious two year old and she's six months pregnant." I can't leave that burden on her. Michael is in the middle of his "terrible twos" as they all call it, and Christine is very high energy as she just started walking by herself. 

"Your dad?"

"On vacation for two weeks starting tomorrow."

"I really don't want to do this but... Sweets and Daisy?"

"I don't see why you're resistant to that. I see no issues, and I can ask, but I don't think they would have any reason to say no." He sighs, but doesn't disagree.

"Fine."

"I will book a flight to Las Vegas. I'm fascinated to see it."

"The city or the body, Bones?"

"Both- oh."

"Yeah..." I had completely forgotten about Booth's previous gambling addiction, and now I feel bad. "Don't leave my sight and you'll be fine, Booth." He sighs.

"If you say so." Suddenly, Booth grins. "Whaddya say to Tony and Roxy making a comeback, huh Bones?" His grin is somehow infectious.

"I wouldn't be averse to it..."

* * *

 

Casey and I are sitting on a bench outside the hotel when a little green Volkswagen Beetle races up to the curb. A girl who looks extremely angry is in the driver's seat, and I instinctively reach for my hip holster. Casey groans. "Go back inside, Red. Hit up the casinos, get a drink... do something, I guess."

"Tell me who that is."

He grunts- number 6. Anger with a heaping side of irritation. "Red..." He starts to say as the girl jumps out of the car and starts storming towards us. "That's my daughter."

"Hi, Dad. I got forwarded the most interesting voicemail this morning from Sarah... care to explain?" I look over and see that Casey is  _pale_. He is legitimately scared of this girl who is apparently his daughter, and if we weren't in such a horrible situation, I would be laughing. 

"I don't seem to recall any voicemail." Crap. Nobody told him that I called Walker with the news. He looks at me. "Voicemail?" The girl, who still hasn't had a name mentioned, turns to me. There is no doubt that she is John Casey's offspring- the eyes, the attitude, the defensive and angry stance. Both she and her father are clearly on edge, waiting for me to answer. 

"I, uh..." I can't believe this. I am at a loss for words, which never happens, at the most inopportune time. Why can't this day be going well? "I might have drunk dialed Wa-Bar-Sarah- last night."

"Seriously? Dad, I'm twenty three- _I_ shouldn't have to be the one yelling at you and telling you that you should have been more careful." I decide to try to leave this argument to father and daughter, so I slide off the bench and begin to casually walk away. "Where the  _hell_ do you think you're going?" Now I've simply had enough of her attitude.

"Excuse me?" 

"I'm not even  _close_ to done yet, and you're clearly a part of this." She shoots a pointed look to my left hand. "Get back here."

"No."

"Carina... just do it. Alex, cut it out."

"No! I'm having the shittiest day of my life, and I'm not going to be talked to like that!" If Casey was pale before, there is officially no blood left in his face now. To the shock of both of us, the girl, apparently named Alex, nods and sits down where I just was on the bench. 

"Cool." She turns to her dad and appears to be studying him for a minute, then does the same to me. She goes back to Casey again. "I like her. For an accidental Vegas marriage, which I'm still pissed with you about, you picked a good one." Now I'm confused. Was that a test to see what I would do? "In case either of you are wondering, that was in fact a test." I hate being a test subject, but I have to admit that I completely fell for that one. 

I can't do this anymore. I'm  _feeling_ \- even the word makes me want to shudder. I don't want to feel- spies don't feel. That's how they get compromised. "I have to... go." I start running, and I thank whatever god there is that I'm not wearing heels. I don't know where my feet are taking me and I feel out of breath within minutes, but I keep running.


End file.
